St John the Divine
by Chibi Lurrel
Summary: A story about what makes John tick, and the great lust affair that is IcemanxPyro. The story begins somewhere between the second and third films. Pyro is an angry jerk with a shady past, Bobby doesn't know what he wants or where to go, and stuff blows up.
1. an intro

The short story of St. John Allerdyce is what he told to Magneto, that first day, flying away from Alkali Lake.

'I am a firm believer in man being able to choose his own destiny. No one is simply the sum of his past,' Magneto had intoned, and god, it thrilled him to listen to that. Magneto commanded power and respect and talked like he was a Titan come to earth and Pyro loved it.

'But I feel that perhaps, an auxiliary knowledge of your background might help us assess your skills for later missions.' Magneto steepled his hands and gazed at Pyro, who didn't flinch. He knew it was coming and if he didn't let the Professor make him feel ashamed of himself, there was no reason to feel that here.

'My name is. Well, I was born St. John Allerdyce. My parents were rich, filthy rich, and we lived in a mansion amid a bunch of other mansions with a lot of other unobservant boring people. My mother loved me, I think, but she never stopped my father from getting drunk and beating the hell out of me, and she didn't stop him from throwing me out when I was fourteen and. I blew up my birthday cake.'

He stopped and Magneto didn't push, just looked at him.

'Uhm.' Okay, so he was a little ashamed. Fuck that, he was entitled. 'So I wandered around for a while. I guess I ran out of money real fast and eventually I got in a fight and got beat up pretty bad since these guys took my lighter, and I couldn't really control anything then. I uh. I got picked up by these guys, a few of them were mutants and a couple were just criminals, I guess, and they took me in. Taught me how to steal, how to fight. I'm a pretty great pickpocket. They did this thing, they'd get people documents. I didn't really get it at first, but they'd set up like, whole different lives for mutants who didn't have anything. And they started bringing me along, first as muscle and when I got a little older, I guess I just became part of the deal. Like, a bonus.'

Here Pyro gave a little smile, small and sharptoothed. 'So I guess I'm pretty great at giving blowjobs. I don't know.' He was the first to break eye contact with Magneto.

'Is this where Charles found you?'

Pyro shrugs. 'He has that machine or whatever that helps him find, I guess, wayward mutants or something. I think he paid them off to let me go. Those guys though. They weren't bad to me; cared a lot more than my parents. That was about a year and a half ago, I guess.'

Magneto nods. 'Well, like I said. I believe a man is more than just a sum of his history, his past.' He would never offer any stories about his own life, but Pyro figured it out pretty quickly. He was glad he never had any mementos of his unsavoury youth written out onto his skin.

The long story isn't much different. Sure, his dad wasn't a monster, just an alcoholic, St. John hadn't hated being rich at the time. And he'd fallen in love. Really, less of those years on the streets had involved him hustling and more of the involved being scared, being quiet, and knowing just how to disappear. Magneto didn't care, it seemed, and began to teach him.

St. John Allerdyce wasn't a common name, it wasn't a 'grew up in a two story house in the middle of the suburbs name,' it wasn't a name anyone knew how to pronounce. That's why he'd lost it as fast as he could, as soon as he got himself out of the house.

His life, the before time as he'd named it, hadn't been awful, really. His dad really only beat him a couple times a month, and he'd never hit his mother, who would yell for it to stop and then sooth him in his room, and his dad didn't even use the belt until he turned twelve. A lot of kids had it a lot worse, he'd told Professor Xavier eventually, earnestly. Really. He wasn't some kind of charity case.

The Professor would just shake his head and tell him working through his issues would take time. Magneto told him how to be strong. It didn't take a genius to figure out who was giving him the better deal, at the end of his story.

Author's note:  
Yeah dudes, so the title is from a Ted Leo & the Pharmacists song. Uhhh hello ff.n? This fic is actually about half written but I am working through edits and stuff but I figured, why not post it? Aaah summer.


	2. the beginning

St. John the Divine

- Chibi Lurrel

Notes: This chapter is probably darker than a light romantic romp around BobbyxJohn should be. Alas, there can be no light romantic romping without some angst.

St. John Allerdyce had fervently hoped, with all his might, that he'd be ready the next time he ran into Bobby Drake. He'd gotten a new haircut, some highlights, started working out. Some of his fellow members of the Brotherhood made fun of him, just a little, because he didn't put on a lot of weight when he trained. Magneto never questioned his increased interest in vanity. In fact, Magneto almost never questioned him at all.

Magneto, Pyro, and Mystique had travelled quite a lot in the time following the events at Alkali Lake. They'd been recruiting, raising funds, getting new identities, and posing as a family unit, Pyro playing the sullen teenager. By the time Magneto had built his army, though, the closeness he'd felt in their adventuring was all but gone.

Pyro was still Magneto's third, and then second, in command. But instead of giving him personal lessons, he'd been expected to simply train with the rest of the troops. During training, it was like he was deliberately singled out. After another day of running through the mud in the forest, grappling with people as angry as he was, burning leaves and getting his shoulder dislocated, Magneto had come up behind him and said quietly, 'I don't know where your focus is, St. John. I don't think you've been taking us too seriously.'

Having one's shoulder relocated by some dude who's main mutation appeared to be forgetting to shower does something to one's temper, and Pyro felt himself heat up right under his skin. His lighter was in his hand instantly as the words snarled out of his mouth, 'Why are you so fucking doubtful of me? I'm as strong, no, stronger than half of these recruits put together.' He'd felt like some fourth grader with a note sent home to his mom: 'John's a bright kid with a lot of potential, but lacks focus.'

At that, Erik had laughed, a cruel one without warmth. 'It was never in my nature to be trusting of traitors, St. John.' And shit that hurt, he'd been expecting this test but it still hurt.

His lighter clicked, and there was a cloud of fire around their feet, billowing out. 'I didn't-- I'm not. I didn't betray anyone.' He wasn't looking at Magneto anymore; instead he stared down and began to build a wall around them. A sheen of sweat was apparent under Magneto's helmet but he just stared.

'I didn't betray the Professor. I choose you instead, is all.'

The flames died instantly and Pyro felt stupid, impulsive, clumsy, but Erik was still looking at him appraisingly.

'Shit, okay. I'm sorry, I just. I just lost control there and. Fuck. I'm sorry.'

'Why?'

His head snapped up to look at his mentor.

'Because...the Professor spent so much time talking to me about control, control, control, but never about how to get better. How to be stronger. Just how to keep myself from being powerful. You, you know how to make yourself better, bigger, and, I guess. I guess I thought that's what you could do for me. I mean, it is! I am stronger, but.'

'You want more.' This time there was a smile behind his words. 'I can give you more.'

And he did. Pyro found himself pulled from the regular training sessions with the other members of the Brotherhood and instead found himself Magneto's pet project. The others were resentful, tried to humiliate him, but he didn't care. It felt like a return to old times, and he was finally learning how not to be weak, how to overcome the limitations of having to rely on a lighter for his power. Magneto, Bobby, even Rogue, their powers all lay underneath the skin, inside. He didn't think that resentment would ever leave him, but he used it, channelled it.

Magneto's first task was to get him used to _being_ the fire. He wasn't Iceman, he had protested, he couldn't even make fire so how in hell could he be it? Magneto had added an extra minute onto his training for it, and for the first time in his life, he was told to create fireballs and then...hold them. It wasn't like he had never burned himself, but never on purpose, never like this. He could float the flames over his fingers and he relished the warmth but deep down, he was as terrified as anyone else of being burned alive.

'This is the fucking first step?'

Magneto just stared at him and said, rather threateningly, 'Do you want more time to reflect on this?' And then his expression had changed to something softer. 'We could delay this if you feel that would be necessary, Pyro.'

Pyro just shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes, and he leaned up against a tree, steeling himself. He lifted his arms out, palms up, and heard Magneto click his lighter. With his eyes closed, he still felt the fire in the air near him, and he blew it into a large ball, and brought it near him. He knew where it hovered and split it into two perfectly even spheres, right above his hands, barely licking at his lifelines. He inhaled and closed his hands, cursing his accuracy, and then screamed.

It hurt inconceivably bad, wrapping his fingers around the glowing orbs, and he managed to not scream for about a minute until he couldn't stop, his voice was raw and he was on the ground, burning and crying. Magneto paced around him, counting minutes and lecturing calmly.

'You can't be afraid of what you control, St. John. That fire is yours to command, yours to own. You must know its touch intimately. You have in those scorched palms the power to command the element man coveted most. You are a god now, St. John. Pyro. Act like it.'

He managed to hold out through his assigned three minutes before he lost control, slipping out of consciousness for a second. Magneto did not look impressed or displeased, he simply called in the healer he had recruited and had her work on the ruined masses of flesh that were Pyro's fingers. She wasn't the most powerful girl, but she had been a late bloomer and had been studying for med school when her powers manifested, so his hands were actually down to only second degree burn damage and by the time she had finished he had stopped crying quietly.

The next morning, he found the flamethrower braces on the desk in his room in the cabin he shared. It was funny, he thought, Magneto had almost crippled him to see if he deserved them, and it was even better because he was already crippled by his dependency on them. Okay, maybe not so funny, maybe just depressing. He couldn't survive without something else, something else's fire. He snapped them on after he came out of the shower, ignoring how his hands ached and were blistered.

He thought, after the pain of roasting his own hands, of his own body being beaten over and over again, he'd be ready to fight Bobby. But Bobby Drake, though not a complicated boy, always managed to surprise him. He was surprised to see him outside in the mêlée of the cure clinic protests. The thought of Rogue giving up her gifts made him angry. They'd been close, in another life, close enough that she would talk to him about Bobby.

'I think he loves me in spite of my powers,' she'd told him, and he thought that was the ultimate treason in love. He'd loved Bobby for his whole package: the six pack abs, the kind eyes, the powers that almost-but-not-quite fit together so well with his own. John had never deluded himself with ideas about Bobby loving him back; he was there to be fucked and then ignored. Bobby was his friend but he used him. Magneto wasn't using him, not in the same way at all. To Bobby, John had been a means to an end. Pyro to Magneto was more like a finely tuned knife.

He yelled at Bobby at the protests, but he knew he didn't have much to complain about as a whole. He'd never gotten confused, never called him Rogue, and was never gentle. He'd almost always instigate, which was both troublesome and a relief to John, and he almost always topped. Sometimes it'd be before bed when he'd decide to slide up to John, grabbing his chin and then kissing him.

John wasn't much to look at, really. Bobby really liked the sleek curve of his spine, but he was too bony, too skinny in a way that only malnutrition during the formative years produced. You could count the knobs of his vertebrae, and his hips jutted out enough that Bobby told him that doing it from behind was probably just easier since it was harder to bruise himself that way. Bobby was all-American football in comparison to his hood-rat physique, toned abs and biceps that belonged in an Abercrombie ad. Sometimes, when Bobby fucked him over his desk roughly, he'd wonder how he got so lucky, that he got the world's only bisexual sex god as his own personal roommate. Bobby normally left bruises, and wouldn't suck his cock, but he never seemed repulsed, and loved kissing.

The best sex they had was always right after training in the Danger Room, though, when John would come into the room with his eyes glittering and dark, and Bobby would meet his gaze with those bright blue eyes, stiff and cold. Bobby would push him on the bed, taking off his shirt and teasing him all down bruised ribs with icy fingers, and John would have no recourse, nothing to do but buck and squirm as he was trapped under 200 pounds of blonde ambition, cold tongue and hot mouth. John's burnt, calloused fingers still remember the dip of Bobby's hip, the feel of his cock, even as they failed him again and again by never producing fire.

At the final battle, he'd been surprised not to see Rogue, secretly thrilled that Bobby was there, and absurdly pleased to note that he hadn't been replaced with another boy. Sure, it was painful to note that Rogue had been pushed aside for Kitty; Rogue was a real person, Kitty was just a girl from the suburbs with no story and no personality. Bobby didn't know what he wanted, Pyro decided. Someone with a dark, mysterious past, someone with a tragic secret, or someone with nothing worse than the ability to walk through walls. It didn't make sense.

And he'd thought he was ready. He was, too, prepared to make Bobby feel what Pyro had been feeling for months, the rage, the hot white hot feeling of absolute anger at everything engulfing him, at the Professor for not being able to help him, at Bobby for never giving him what he wanted, at Magneto for being such a bastard and for being so incredibly wantable at the same time.

Bobby goddamn surprised him, after Pyro had already declared himself winner, with a new form that Pyro could never even dream of imitating. If only he hadn't fallen over, if only Bobby hadn't run off with Rogue's replacement so quickly, he would have pulled his Ace out: two hands engulfed in impossible fire. If only, if only, if only he hadn't been weak. And now Magneto was gone, and all he had were some wrist brace flamethrowers and some stupid highlights in his hair. He didn't mind stealing, but he wished he didn't have to steal a new life so goddamned often. He only really hated Bobby for that: for having just the one and living it.


	3. an arrival

**St John the Divine: An Arrival**

**- Chibi Lurrel**

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I didn't expect Bobby to show up at my apartment a month after my life blew up in my face like so many cars set on fire, but there he was, suitcase in hand and no X-Men costume in sight.

'Uh, hi,' he said, other hand rubbing the back of his neck and his eyes not quite meeting mine.

'What the fuck, Drake?' I had a cup of ramen in one hand, spoon sticking out awkwardly.

'Well. After that fight. I mean. I figured. I needed.'

Oh. 'Oh. A place to stay? Your parents finally finish disowning you? What about Rogue's place? Or you got that new slut, that chick who walked through walls.'

'Kitty, and she's not a slut. God, okay, you're still an ass, I just thought that maybe you'd-'

'Whoa tiger. Of course I'm still an ass. Jesus. Just come inside.' Bobby still looks redfaced, but at least he looks a little angry now, less lost, less young.

I close the door behind him and watch as he puts his suitcase on the floor and sits down on my futon, glances around. 'Candles. I bet the landlord really appreciates that.'

I shrug, not really looking for a real fight, not yet. 'Keeps the electric bills down. It ain't like I'm swimming in money here, Drake, or I'd be staying some place with more than two rooms.'

It's true. My place had a little kitchen in the corner and a bathroom. And a futon. That was pretty much it, except for the card table and two folding chairs. I lived out of my suitcase and backpack, and wasn't planning on staying there long.

'It's...cosy.'

I snorted as I sat down in a chair as he slumped onto the couch.

'Okay, well, it's a shithole, but I've got nowhere else to go.' Bobby did look ragged around the edges, I would admit to that. He still looked goddamned hot, though, hotter than he had any right to look sitting on my shitty futon in my dilapidated apartment.

'Your parents might be terrified of you but it ain't like they threw you out on your ass, Drake. I was there, remember?' My lighter's in my hands and I'm flicking it open and closed before I even register the noise.

He shrugs. He looks defeated. 'Look. They don't want me. I got told to go home for a while, clear my head, but that's not going to be a place where I could do that.'

'That don't really sound too much like the Professor. You kill someone in training or something?'

'Xavier's dead.' His voice is too goddamn flat for that sort of news, and I inhale sharply.

'What. I didn't know. Erik, you know, he got depowered so I'm in hiding now. Mystique, she's starting to change back, and says she'll keep us updated but I doubt it. But what the hell happened to make them kick you out?'

'Rogue...Marie, she got the cure, too. And it was great, you know, we could kiss, but she knew she'd have to leave. And she wanted for us to like, get an apartment, get married, or something. Like, be normal people. But I'm not. And I don't. I guess I don't love her anymore, which I guess is pretty horrible to say, like I don't love her now we can finally hook up or whatever, but I don't and I'm young, too young to settle down with some girl. I figured she'd leave and I'd date Kitty or something.'

I snort at that. 'Oh yeah?'

'Yeah. But, the cure doesn't work that well. Rog- Marie's power came back while we were making out, I guess, I don't really remember but I woke up in the medical room and Marie was crying and at first I thought she was upset because she thought she'd killed me, right? But she was upset because she, like, absorbs your thoughts too if she gets enough time and she figured out that I didn't love her like she loved me.'

I can't help but laugh out loud at that pronouncement. 'Jesus.'

'I know, right? And she froze the whole damn room because she was so upset.'

I'm still chuckling and he gives me a sort of watery smile. 'So, Storm figured she had enough on her hands without dealing with all my shit, and then it turns out Rogue turned Kitty against me too, and it was suggested that I be given some leave from the school to 'get my head together.' Only Logan thought it was a dumb idea.'

'Good old Wolverine. It must be like a house of estrogen in the mansion now, huh?'

Bobby did manage to laugh at that. 'Shit, John. I can't believe you even let me in. I figured you hated me.'

I shrug. 'I guess I did. I hated a lot of things. Now my life isn't playing superhero or supervillian and it's back to that stuff I'm used to, like being hungry, poor, and alone.'

That last part came out more bitter than I intend, so I tack on a quick 'Though I guess you're here to fix that last part, huh?'

'What've you been up to, then?' Bobby asks, pointedly ignoring what I'm actually saying. I shrug.

'I've been selling some short stories to magazines, stealing, hustling. The usual. I've been paying the rent on time, and I guess that's what matters.'

Bobby's breath caught on the word 'hustling,' I can tell, his back stiffens and I keep staring at him, can't break eye contact.

'I can pay, you know. Rent. For as long as I stay.' and the timing of it makes me want to laugh again, but I don't.

'Wouldn't expect any less of you.'

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**Author's Note:** Hey so I know this chapter is a ridiculous shift in style (and filled with eight thousand sentence fragments!), but it's on purpose, I swear. Basically, take this story as some vignettes with a common plot (I swear there will be intrigue and stuff later). It's sort of going to oscillate between pretty dark and pretty adorkable. :E It's like two stories for the price of one! Pyro's depressing history and then mutants in love!

Also, I see a lot of hits but not so many reviews! Should I have begged for some in the earlier chapters? I guess I forgot the basic tenant of ff.n, which is shameless begging for recognition. It's just a courtesy, man, tell me if you hate it or love it or want me to get on to the sweet sweet lovin' already or whatever dudes. Keep me updated!


	4. liquor is quicker

**St John the Divine: Liquor is Quicker**

**- Chibi Lurrel**

This one has uh more explicit content than the others, so be warned: gay boys touching and stuff.

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Bobby didn't know what he was doing in John's apartment. It was beat-up, rundown, and it was a miracle that it didn't have roaches.

'I only had to burn a couple before the rest got the message,' John had explained, and Bobby couldn't tell if it was a joke but he'd laughed anyway.

He paid rent with money from a bank account that was routinely updated by the Xavier School trust fund, his allowance since Storm assumed that he was either at home or road tripping across the US getting high to find himself, and not sleeping curled against the wall in a futon thinking in his head 'don't touch don't touch don't touch' over and over again, since John was just inches away, all sweaty heat and sprawled limbs.

'You could get a job. It'd pass the time and wouldn't run up my electric bill like watching that damn TV all day does,' John remarked one day at dinner (chicken and rice, both stolen earlier on his way home from job number 8 in a long string of failed employment attempts).

'I'll pay for the whole bill this month then.' John's eyes squinted at him darkly at that as he puts food down on Bobby's plate (chipped, crack down the middle).

'Fine. That's fine. Just, you should get out, get some air, clear your head. You've just holed yourself up in my place here and I don't think this is what Storm had in mind when she set you up with a bank account and a couple of months of X-Vacation.'

Bobby went out and bought a ton of alcohol the next day, a couple of six packs and a huge handle of cheap, mango flavoured vodka. He told John that he paid a hobo to get it for him because he can only imagine the laughter that would ensue if he told him that all the underage members of the X-Men got fake IDs.

'Holy shit, Drake, glad I don't have work tomorrow,' was all he said after dinner and Bobby turned on the TV and they proceeded to get completely wasted.

'Okay, so your turn,' Bobby said drunkenly, holding an ice giraffe by it's leg and Pyro, because it's Pyro when he's got that gleam in his eye, grinned wickedly and said, 'I've been working on this for a while,' and lifted his hands. The little ball of flame he'd been holding grew, stretched a little, and then Marie was there, her delicate face looking out of a halo of fire, her eyes darting back and forth around the room and then at Bobby. He knew he was drunker than Pyro for certain; there's an art to sculpting with fire that doesn't lend itself to inebriation and he just looked at it. 'You win.'

Pyro laughed a little too triumphantly and then Marie disappeared, and the room grew instantly darker. Bobby leaned in, kneeling on the floor and pushing his face up to Pyro's.

'I don't miss her, though.' Pyro was still, blinking, dark eyed and dangerous, and Bobby didn't want to give himself enough time to think.  
'You, though. I missed you.' His hands grasped Pyro's shoulders and they kissed, hard and flavoured with alcohol.  
'I missed this,' he said between kisses and they tumbled into the futon, blankets sliding off.

'God, Drake, I've been waiting, thought you didn't want me no more. I wasn't sure if this me was good enough.' Bobby smiled and pushed Pyro back down on the bed, made him arch up and beg for kisses and touching and he knew his hands were frosted when his hand made its way up Pyro's shirt.

'I missed this, dammit Pyro,' Bobby groaned as Pyro rolled his hips up and there's ice sliding over the sheets too.

'You're gonna ruin my bed. I'll get kicked out or something if you flood my apartment.' Pyro was panting hard, but he stopped complaining as Bobby moved his fingers down his ribcage to the band of his boxers and the waist of his pants.

'I didn't think you'd ever make a move, oh,' and Pyro groaned again.

'Don't you ever stop talking?' Bobby growled and kissed him bruisingly hard. Pyro's hands fumbled with the zipper on his jeans but finally he'd managed it, and Bobby froze a corner of the futon as Pyro's hot fingers touched his dick.

'No. You're worse at controlling that shit than I remember.'

Bobby laughed as he sucked in air, trembling and bucking. 'I'm drunk, John.'

It didn't take much for Bobby to peak, John was a pro after all, and his arms turned into ice all the way up to his elbows and it took him a whole minute before he got it under control again.

Pyro was shivering, tangled in the comforter and still wearing all his clothes, his erection tenting his pants.

'Jesus. I guess they never got to this class, huh?' and Bobby laughed and laughed and finally felt light headed and giggly and free.

'Hold on,' Bobby said, rubbing his hands together to get them back to a reasonable temperature, and proceeded to give Pyro a sloppy and quick blow job, and realized it was the first one he'd ever given him. He managed to swallow and then Pyro laughed a little, shifting on the sticky mattress.

'I'm glad you managed to not freeze my dick off, Drake. Where the hell are we supposed to sleep, also, now that you've ruined my bed while gettin' your rocks off?'

They managed to salvage the comforter, which had fallen off the bed, and curled into each other on the floor, quickly asleep.

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**Author's Note: **So, review and stuff, I guess. The next chapter has some thrilling PyroxMagneto, because my brain hates me. Thanks y'all for reviewing! Pyro is totally a rich kid-turned-hoodrat, in my head anyway.


	5. dead ringer

**St John the Divine: Dead Ringer**

**- Chibi Lurrel**

Okay so warnings are here: this is mostly Magneto x Pyro, it's kind of porny and non-con and weird. And dark. Basically if you want more Pyro x Bobby stuff the next chapter will be better to suiting your moods, but this is sort of a look into the past of Pyro's fucked up relationships. This is totally a non-gratuitous chapter, though, I swear. Well, maybe it's a little gratuitous. But it's important to character development and stuff. Really.

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Back when he was in the Brotherhood, Pyro had managed to go a whole month under Erik's wing without getting fucked or fucking Mystique, which he gathered from their expressions, either meant they thought he was worthless, fragile, or were waiting. Mystique was choosy about who in the Brotherhood she slept with, sure, and most nights she was with Magneto, but every once and a while she'd pick one of the better looking members and spend an evening in their company. Pyro was a little jealous of her, for a lot of reasons: she was so open with whom she was, what she wanted, and she was beautiful. And, of course, she and Magneto loved each other. Or something similar.

Magneto was ruthless, a punishing master to be sure, but his power was so intoxicating. When they had travelled the country, just the three of them finding other mutants to join the cause, Pyro had listened to them fuck in motel rooms and stared at Magneto when he knew he wasn't looking. Mystique's yellow eyes caught him on more than one occasion, a predatory smile of white white teeth splitting her dark blue face. She'd tease him, sure, but Pyro always managed to ignore it. Sometimes she'd be Dr. Grey or Storm or Bobby. Her Bobby was great, the concerned and earnest voice almost exactly right, and it always made him shiver even without the ice. But still, he wasn't some plaything for anyone to use, though of course he'd made exceptions. Like, Magneto, for example. He tried so hard to curry favour with him, read the books he'd been assigned, learn everything Magneto tried to teach him, but he always felt it wasn't quite enough until recently, when his intense training had started and Magneto's expression moved from vaguely uninterested or displeased to genuine surprise at the extent of his abilities.

Blowing up huge trees was hard work and it made him sleep heavier than normal, deep and sometimes, blissfully dreamless. He was sleeping inside his tent, since Magneto had decided he shouldn't have to share. It was hot outside, so he had curled himself up on top of his sleeping bag, boxers and wife beater and wrist braces and nothing else. Erik took a moment to take in the sight. He didn't look innocent in sleep, per say, as many might accuse him of being. No, that half open mouth, pouting lips, little sliver of skin between tank top and shorts didn't add up to innocent, really, and Erik coughed a little. Pyro's eyes were open immediately and then his hands were pushed back, next to his head and he couldn't move. 'What the hell?' and Magneto held a finger to his lips as he crouched over the boy's prone form.

'Hello, Pyro.'

'What. What's going on, I can't move, Magneto what?' Pyro's eyes were opened wide and his body twisted on the sleeping bag underneath him, his legs kicking a little. His whole form trembled a little, and he was panicking at being woken up like this.

'This is a little test,' was all Magneto said, and then his cold hands were tugging at St. John's boxers and he jerked his hips.

'Wait stop. I don't. I don't do that anymore, I tried never to let it get this far please oh god,' Pyro couldn't stop his pleas, his voice a whisper raspy with fear. He'd thought about fucking Magneto, sure, but he worshipped the man and assumed it would be more personal than this.

'You shouldn't be afraid, boy. I ask for absolute dedication to our cause, Pyro, and I expect to see it from you.'

'It's just. You could have asked, I mean, you don't just have to take. Please. I'd have done this for you if you'd asked.'

Magneto simply smiled, running a hand down Pyro's face and neck to rest at his collarbones. Pyro arched his neck, breathing heavily and his eyes shut tight. Something wasn't quite right about this touch. Magneto's fingers always made his blood feel hot, like he was forever manipulating the iron running under his skin. Every time Magneto had touched him he felt his heart pump with power and a casual brush of his fingers made Pyro feel flush, intoxicated. These touches were simple, devoid of the power he'd spent so much time wanting.

'You could have just asked, Mystique,' he panted and prayed he was right.

There was a chuckle from outside the tent, and his door was pulled open again. Erik was outside, leaning in to be seen.

'Good show, my boy, good show.'

'What's happening?' Pyro asked, his voice a high whine. He felt humiliated and disoriented: their little games never made any sense to him.

'We can't just play with all our recruits like this. I've decided that you've moved far enough in your training. Most haven't the experience or mental capacity to handle her like this.'

The Magneto that was still touching him gave him a decidedly un-Erik smile and began playing with his nipples through the fabric of his shirt, and he closed his eyes again and whimpered.

'What, you find me that distasteful?' asked the Erik-outside, and Pyro shook his head no, he didn't know how to say this was what he'd wanted and so so much of what he'd feared, and here she was looking like all this cool collected power and touching him and -

'It's just. I wanted it to be. It's too much.'

The real Erik noticed that Pyro's hands were spasming, opening and closing and fluttering near his head, desperately trying to get his braces to click on, to feel something. He chuckled again.

'I disabled those when I pinned you to the floor, my boy. I don't need this whole forest burned down.'

'Please,' Pyro moaned, and Mystique/Magneto stopped fondling him through his shorts and worked them off him quickly. Pyro didn't want to open his eyes, he was so hard and he couldn't even begin to process what was happening, his mind simply latched onto one thought: they picked me, they picked me first, they want me.

'Pleaaase.' he said again and there were two identical laughs, soft and low.

'Oh, he's eager for it. You shouldn't make him wait long.'

And Pyro realized this was going to happen with Magneto standing there in his doorway, watching him get fucked by, well, himself, and he couldn't stand it, it was too weird and Mystique kept touching him, rubbing her hands down his sides, his thighs, his cock, and suddenly he felt his legs being propped up and opened and spread wide. He felt drugged, slow, and still surprised.

'Oh God. I don't. It's been.'

He felt her preparing him, pushing two fingers in at once into his ass and they were wet with lube and he was relieved as she pushed around, opening him up, and he heard one of them make a displeased noise.

'I'd rather thought this was something you'd like to watch.'

And Pyro's eyes snapped open. The man on top of him pushed himself slowly into him, and Pyro kept looking into his eyes and the eyes of the man, his mentor's, standing and watching this, keeping his arms trapped and his hands helpless and he groaned. Mystique was slow, taking her time, but it burned, it had been a long time since.

'Maybe something a little younger, love,' said Magneto, and the man inside him began to shift into something blonde, blue-eyed, something he would have called Bobby if this were a jerk-off fantasy and not some grotesque caricature of all of Pyro's wet dreams combined.

Pyro could only groan, the feel of a man's cock changing shape inside him was insane, and then Bobby was kissing him and thrusting and Pyro's mind was so overwhelmed he might have started crying, his hands clenching into fists.

'I've missed you,' Bobby said to him and Pyro could only arch his body, which was already pulled up by Mystique off the ground. But Bobby's hands were warm and his tongue was warm and his cock wasn't quite right. It still didn't take Pyro long to cum, and he simply lay there for another unmeasured time span as Bobby built up to it, came and his face when he shot was wrong too, and Pyro was glad he still had some secrets left.

Mystique shifted into her usual skin and Pyro was immediately empty and grunted a little. She grinned, teeth sharp, and gave him another kiss. Pyro could tell he was half hard again but just leaned up into her mouth, whimpering when she bit at his lip.

Erik was still standing outside his tent and he coughed a little.

'You've had your fun, love. Let him rest,' and Mystique stood gracefully and disappeared outside.

'What the, what the fuck was that?' Pyro asked, clarity slowly returning to him and his cock softening and his hands still trapped.

'Think of it like an initiation. You did well, though not surprising considering your...illustrious background.'

Pyro's eyes narrowed and he didn't care then that he was half naked, that Erik had just stood there calmly watching his prize trainee get fucked by his confidant.

'What the hell would you even know about it? There's more to it than the files you can find on me, and I know neither of you are telepaths. It's not like you to just assume.'

Erik shrugged. 'Well, you performed admirably. It took Mystique a long time finding something that would break you. I'm most impressed by your ability to deter her this long, and of course flattered by who it turned out to be.'

'Why the fuck should breaking me like this even be a priority?' Pyro was snarling, he was mad; he'd lost that smooth just-fucked feeling.

'We're training you to the best of your abilities. You must be prepared for anything in a war like this. Why let another talent of yours simply go to waste?' Magneto's voice was still silk and steel mixed together and Pyro realized suddenly that he still wanted him, wanted to please that old man in any way possible and if that meant being debased in front of him for the greater good of mutant kind, so be it.

Pyro felt himself flush and suddenly his hands were free and he sat up, a little too quickly.

'Cover yourself up, boy,' and he awkwardly pulled his boxers over his sticky thighs.

Magneto placed a hand on Pyro's cheek, and he felt himself warmed by that power, that incredible power that lived within that man. He let his face be tilted up and met him in a kiss, and it wasn't anything like kissing Mystique. Magneto's fingers danced down to lay over his heart, and his whole body thrummed with heat and fire and the feeling of Magneto's power. He heard someone whimper and didn't realize until after Magneto broke the kiss that it had been himself.

'Well, well. You are a delightful bundle of surprises, Pyro. I suppose Mystique does win this round.'

Pyro didn't even want to consider what that meant. 'A little hero worship never hurt anybody,' he said with a shrug.

Magneto smiled and pushed him back onto the sleeping bag.

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**Author's Note: **Thanks for all the reviews, dudes and dudettes! Sorry this chapter is so whack. I think I might be messing with the sequence of things too much, but hopefully it will make sense at the end.


	6. bonnie & clyde in reverse

**St John the Divine: Bonnie & Clyde in Reverse**

**- Chibi Lurrel**

Back to Bobby and Pyro!

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John's hands are covered with scar tissue, Bobby notices one morning. They had moved on from the tiny dingy one room apartment to a less horrible part of town. Storm still hasn't contacted him, but St. John had landed a five book deal with some big-name company and was waiting on the money to start rolling in. Since he'd moved in, they'd also foiled a drug ring and stopped three bank robberies. The first episode in crimefighting began with Bobby pulling a mask out of his pocket and Pyro running after him, shouting 'Goddammit Drake can't you ever stop being a hero?' He couldn't.

The knuckles aren't disfigured, and you'd have to squint really to see it all, but both hands are covered with a delicate web of burn scars, bumpy and completely non-uniform. His lifelines, though, are all fucked up, pink and raised. His palms look like they'd been mangled to bring good fortune in love.

'Hey,' he'd said, interrupting a necking session on their relatively new couch.

'What happened to your hands?' Pyro had pulled away and looked at him, straight and deep into his eyes.

'That's. Uh. Well, just look at this,' John said with a shrug and pulled his lighter out of his pocket. The wrist braces were too bulky for street-clothes wear, they'd both decided.

'You should, uh, probably let go of me so I can stand up.'

John stood up after they disentangled themselves, lighter in hand. He flicked it open and suddenly there were two fireballs, one in each hand.

'Great, I'm super impressed,' Bobby said and rolled his eyes a little. Pyro's eyes had just narrowed and flickered and suddenly they were two fire engulfed hands, blindly bright and clenched into fists. Pyro had made a hissing noise and grunted under his breath, and then his hands went out.

'Couldn't you, uh, do that before? Like back in school.'

John sat back down and rubbed his hands together.

'Sort of. That was a lot harder back then, I had to keep a layer of oxygen between the flames and my skin. This, this just sits right on my hands and fingers. Stings like a motherfucker, though.'

'But they just look a little pink right now.'

He turned and grinned a little crookedly at Bobby.

'Practice makes perfect.'

The scars made Bobby remember the long hours in the Danger Room, turning himself into ice piece by piece. The first time it had happened it had been a total accident that had taken months to replicate. But turning himself into ice didn't hurt, really, he'd never accidentally given himself frostbite or anything. He didn't even think he could be hurt by his own power anymore, and it confused him that John could still be so vulnerable to the element he controlled.

'Here.' He took John's hands in his own and cooled them down. John winced.

'Give a man some warning, dude,' he said.

'I guess, I guess the training must have been pretty intense then?'

John made a face. 'Look, Bobby, I don't really want to talk about it. It wasn't the Danger Room for goddamned sure.'

'That shit isn't all fun and games, you know. It got a lot harder after you left.'

'Yeah, well. Magneto was all about – look, seriously Drake, I'm sorry I even let you ask. Can we just get back to making out?'

'I don't know why you get all cagey like this when I ask you questions. It's not like you need to be ashamed of yo-'

Pyro's eyes narrowed. 'I'm not fucking ashamed of anything, especially my damned past, okay? Jesus Christ, Bobby, you really know how to kill a mood.'

'Hey, hey!' Bobby held his hands out in apology. 'It's just. I like knowing things about you. Things I know you don't tell other people. I want to know everything about you, St. John Allerdyce, I don't know why you keep making yourself into some big dark mystery.'

Pyro sighed, clearly not placated in the slightest. 'I appreciate the sentiment but the only person who knows that much about me is dead, okay, and since you're not about to go hang out in the amusement park that my mind apparently is I'd like it if you drop the subject.'

Bobby frowned, his forehead creased. 'But you could tell me someday, right?' he asked softly.

'Maybe. Maybe someday, but not today.'

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**Author's Note: **Another thanks for the reviews! They make me feel loved. Any complaints, concerns, criticisms, or care you'd like to send, don't hesitate to type.


	7. repercussions

**St John the Divine: Repercussions**

**- Chibi Lurrel**

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It sucked to be on the losing side, Pyro had decided after the firefight (har har) on Alcatraz. No amount of misguided attention or love was going to bring Magneto back to Homo Superior, so he stowed away in the back of mini van still bearing a driver and popped out in the middle of Suburbia, California hours and hours later, cramped and stiff.

It really fucking sucked to rebuild a life from scratch. Pyro knew that since he'd done it at least twice so far. The best part of being in Magneto's Brotherhood, besides getting fucked by Magneto, was that he'd been able to just take Pyro with him. Sure, Xavier's Academy had taught him a lot, but the Professor had been obsessed with fixing his totally fucked head rather than teaching him how to make his fireballs burn white-hot like steel. The Danger Room was fun, therapy was not. Training with Magneto hadn't been fun, really, but it at least made him stronger, made him better. Talking to Professor X about his shitty teenaged years pretty much just made him mad.

It's not like he hadn't even liked his life back then. The criminals he fell in with were excellent people if, for example, you were a mutant who needed a whole new life. They could get any kind of document you needed and fast, and that's where Pyro came in around when he turned sixteen. Fireballs were pretty intimidating, and when that didn't work, he learned he made pretty good collateral. It wasn't a great gig, sure, but at least it wasn't running to banks to grab what little money wasn't being immediately withdrawn by Mystique and company, just to get enough cash for the down payment on a shithole apartment in a city you didn't even like that much. Luckily, Pyro always kept at least three different names in his wallet. His old training came in handy a lot.

After sneaking back to Secret Hideout Cabin # 5 to retrieve some clothes and other things, he'd cobbled together a new existence. St. John Allerdyce the sixth. To christen the new place, he got drunk, toasting to his new and lonely life and brooding about his poor life decisions. Getting kicked out of his house, losing his virginity, agreeing to sleeping with crime bosses in exchange for cash and political connections, letting Rogue kiss him a handful of times, and letting Bobby fuck him all the time were high on the list of things he might regret. Leaving Xavier's never even came close to the list.

Letting Magneto use him like a puppet was definitely not present on this list, and he wasn't sure why. He liked Magneto because he never pushed him into picking a new persona. Pyro was the one he'd liked best and Magneto let him have it, and he was damned pissed that it was time to assume some other face again. Just drunkenly thinking about him had caused him to think back to the way Magneto made his blood sing with pleasure. But Magneto wasn't coming back.

In his new apartment, he started to miss Bobby. Magneto, man, he'd loved Magneto but he was gone, as dead to Pyro as Mystique should have been, and he wasn't coming back to Homo Superior. The cure being eradicated was great, but his life hadn't gotten any significantly better. He couldn't step foot inside a mutant-friendly store or club without fear of getting recognized, and he was real glad he never go that stupid OMEGA tattoo along his jaw or something.

And shit, Bobby was still around, so he was totally fantasy material. Of course, he was a huge bastard who never appreciate the gift that Pyro was, and refused to command the ship of his own destiny, and who was a Traitor to Mutantkind, but he had been good company, great to get drunk with, and was hot as fuck. He missed Rogue, too, because she'd been a great girl up til the point where she'd sucked all his memories out, and he hated her a lot for that. She'd never looked at him the same way since he blew up some cops, and he didn't blame her.

They didn't get him, though. Professor X wasn't a cruel man, but he sure as hell wasn't nice. He wasn't any saviour to mutant kind, for sure. Pyro needed help getting stronger, gaining control, making sure he wasn't going to kill Bobby while he slept and forgot to put out one of his girly aromatherapy candles. Pyro didn't need to be analysed, to be mindread, to have his inner thoughts looked at and probed and judged.

He'd been a personal case for Xavier, since Cyclops couldn't stand him and he'd ended up just getting drunk with Wolverine, who told the Professor to drop it, but of course he didn't. 'You shouldn't be so troubled,' he'd said.

Yeah, fuck that. He'd done fine, and now he could explode a tree with a single flick of his wrists, and he'd kept a whole generation of mutants from being tattooed and neutered in big health clinics everywhere. Yeah, maybe you saved a kid, Bobby, but at least Pyro knew he was right. He might be alone, poor, and miserable, but at least he'd been right.

So began the new life of St. John Allerdyce.

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**Author's Note: **Yeah I don't know. There will be some plot soon. Thanks for reading this far!


	8. a visit

**St John the Divine: A Visit**

**- Chibi Lurrel**

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St. John had been living in squalor alone and had not been enjoying it. But, he figured, at least his life was less exciting than it had been with Magneto, or Xavier. Well, rather, it was a lot less deadly.

He had counted on these things up until he got a visit from a hostile, blue, Mystique. Well, visit wasn't the right word for the violent crack his door made as she slammed it open. No knocking, straight to the lock picks. He'd sat at his rickety table, sandwich in his hands and looked up at her.

'Uh. Hi, Mystique,' he managed to stutter around a mouthful of ham and cheese.

'I guess Erik isn't staying with you, then.'

He swallowed. 'Yeah, not so much his kind of digs here.'

She snorted and sat down in his only other chair. It was kind of hot; he'd forgotten how she was naked all the damn time, and how dangerous her beauty was. There wasn't a place for that in his new life.

'Good to see you back to your normal, lovely self.'

'I've been looking for him.'

'I don't blame you. I hope you haven't come to kill me, too,' he said easily, but his hands had already tensed, the edge that came right before a battle bubbling under his skin.

She looked amused. 'You really think I would be indulging in some petty revenge? As though I wouldn't have left you had our places been reversed? We all must do what is necessary to further the cause.'

Pyro looked away, shrugging. 'I guess so. Still.'

'Erik contacted me a few weeks ago. His powers are returning.'

That that was even possible was thrilling and terrifying.

'So I guess you're in charge of putting the team back together?'

She shrugged, languid and reptilian as always, her yellow eyes glittering.

'I'm surprised you're not at his bedside, nursing him back to health.' Pyro didn't bother to keep the leer from his face as he said it. 'Although I guess you were always one for prison breaks.'

'I haven't actually seen him yet, simply heard from him. He was rather insistent that I find you.'

This explanation was surprising John. He was always Magneto's second favourite, after all, but he never got that much attention.

'I've had enough of his crazy schemes that basically just end in everyone dying. I'm sitting this one out. You can just tell him to go to hell if he can't come here and ask for me himself.'

She pulled a cell phone out of her bag and shoved it into his hand. 'You can tell him yourself.'

John blinked down at it. It was a simple phone, but someone had replaced the front cover with a vanity plate covered in cheesy looking flames. He grinned. 'Nice touch. So what's it for?'

She shrugged again and Pyro was hit by how much he had loved the lines of her shoulders. He'd missed her. 'This was my mission and now that I've done it, I'm supposed to get in touch with Erik again. He told me I'd be seeing him soon, so wherever he is, that's probably where I'm headed.' She paused and cocked her head to one side. 'You haven't seen him at all?'

'Last time I saw him, he was leaving me to die.'

'You can't be angry at your family forever.'

'Whatever.'

'Pyro,' she said, looking at him sharply, her yellow eyes narrowed.

'What?' But she just turned away and stood up.

'Nothing. Good luck.'

After she exited, loudly slamming the door behind her, Pyro was left sitting in his kitchen, a half eaten sandwich on his plate and a mystery on the table. He didn't know what to think, so he finished his sandwich. Mystique hadn't even turned herself into someone he'd been friends with and hadn't tried to fuck with his head. Something seemed off, and he eyed the telephone sitting on his kitchen table as he cleaned up. It seemed innocuous enough, flames licking over the numbers. There weren't any phone numbers programmed in, and he figured it wasn't worth it to try to call out. Anyone he could get a hold of wouldn't want to talk to him anyway. He couldn't decide if he wanted it to be a prank or if he wanted Magneto to be back.

At three am in the total darkness of his apartment, he received his first call.

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**Author's Note: **Finally, some twists! Sorry this story is being told in a horrifically non-chronological order.


	9. transitions

**St John the Divine: Transitions**

**- Chibi Lurrel**

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'I got uh, a phone call today.'

They're eating dinner together in their upgraded apartment when Bobby breaks the news, and the way he says it leads Pyro directly to the conclusion.

'So Storm called your little X-Phone while I was at work?' John isn't accusing about it, so Bobby just shrugs.

'Yeah. There's some trouble and they want more people back at the mansion. She didn't say what it was, though.'

'You told her where you're at?' John looks suspicious but Bobby doesn't understand why. Storm wasn't exactly a mastermind of evil.

'She. I guess she just knew. I think the Professor's back, or Kid Omega got way better at reading people's minds. Or something. She said that, you know, if you thought you could work with us. You could,' Bobby feels clumsy.

'Yeah right, Drake. They extending that olive branch out of kindness or because you ask 'em to?'

'I didn't. Well.'

'What? Well?'

'You've changed, I guess.'

Pyro snorts. 'I haven't changed at all, I just got less resources now.'

'Marie misses you. She said, that you know, you could just come visit.'

Pyro does pause at that. 'I guess I do owe her that, huh? Maybe a little vacation'd do me good, and I guess it beats paying rent for this shithole.'

Bobby winces. He'd stopped asking John what he did for money, and after getting a black eye stopped trying to pay the entire rent behind his back. John didn't want the charity.

'So let's go.'

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**Author's Note: **Sweet the storyline is moving again! Sorry this one is short, but you did get two chapters at once, and the next one is longer, etc. Thanks for staying with me, guys! And thanks for all the reviews!


	10. a return

**St John the Divine: A Return**

**- Chibi Lurrel**

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Going back to Xavier's was weird. It was goddamn weird and he was out of his mind, weeks of mysterious phone calls from his pay-as-you-go cell phone from Mystique and Magneto be damned. Everything he'd owned that was worth bringing fit in a carry-on sized bag, and Pyro felt as out of place in the dark wooden mansion as he had in his father's years ago.

'Drake, I don't know how I let you talk me into this shit,' he whispered, fidgeting as Storm and Wolverine came to greet them. Pyro knew exactly how to hang back, be ignored; it was an art he'd practiced a lot at home and with Magneto and pretty much every time he wasn't setting shit on fire. Storm looked a little worse for wear, and was thrilled to have a little muscle back. After she had finished fawning over Bobby and Wolverine had shaken his hand, they turned to him.

Wolverine's eyes were appraising and made Pyro feel a little twitchy, sure, but he'd never really been afraid of him and his claws and he simply stared back. Wolverine sniffed, once, then extended his hand. 'Hey. Welcome back.' The way he said it made Pyro feel like he'd just been forgiven and that was bullshit, but he shook his hand anyway.

'I'm so glad you've decided to rejoin us here at Xavier's!' Storm seemed a little too perky, sure, but maybe leading the team without the powerhouses of Cyclops and Dr. Grey had really been fucking terrible. It seemed like it would be.

'Thanks for taking care of Bobby for us, though for a while he did tell us he was at his mother's place.' She mock-glared at him, trying way too fucking hard to be friendly. Pyro knew he looked skittish but that's because he was, and he shrugged.

'Well, he paid his rent. Can't really complain.' Storm just smiled at him.

'There are plenty of rooms here now, kid. A bunch of parents pulled their kids out after what went down with the Worthington Corporation,' said Wolverine. 'You get your pick of where you'd like to stay.'

'And of course, if you decide to join the team, it'll be rent-free! Right now you're our guest, so don't worry about a thing!' said Storm. She looked damned exhausted, Pyro thought, and wondered what the hell Bobby hadn't been telling him these past months.

'Cool,' was all he said. 'I guess it'll be interesting to not have a roommate now.' He managed a pointed glance at his formally-live-in-lover and found him avoiding eye contact. 'Are there any rooms with balconies still left?'

Wolverine nodded and agreed to take Pyro to them, leaving Bobby to fend off Storm by himself. He smiled a little; Storm looked ready to shove all the responsibility on him and run.

'So I guess things have changed pretty radically around here, huh?' Pyro asked as he walked up the stairs.

Wolverine laughed, but it sounded more like a bark. 'You don't know the half of it, bub. The parents panicked at all the news coverage, a lot of them thought we was raising their little hellions as terrorists or something. So a lot of the kids got taken back home to god-knows-what.'

Pyro nodded. 'I doubt destroying the cure went over well with a lot of them.'

Wolverine grunted. 'It didn't go over all that well with some of the students, either.'

'What? That's bullshit. I actually can't believe you guys allowed students to get that shit, seriously.'

'It's not our decision to make.'

They reached a door on the third, and top, floor. 'This one has the best balcony outta the ones that are open, anyway.'

Pyro opened it and stepped through. It was pretty big, and he got that same weird feeling of deja vu that Xavier's always caused, the prickling memories of about eight lifetimes ago. 'This is fine. Great for smoking.'

'Glad it measures up. I'll see you at dinner.' Wolverine turned to walk about and then Pyro turned to face him again.

'Do you regret it?'

'What?' He scowled. Typical, thought Pyro, he had no idea.

'Giving Magneto the cure.'

The door shut loudly as Wolverine walked out. Typical fucking superhero bullshit. Pyro wondered how long he'd have to stay here, gritted his teeth, and decided to go visit the common room.

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**Author's Note: **No doublechapter this time, but at least they're at the mansion again. I hope you guys have been enjoying the story thus far (read: please review if you have been!) Thanks to y'all that do keep my ego stroked!


	11. welcoming committee

**St John the Divine: Welcoming Committee**

**- Chibi Lurrel**

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'Hey Jubes,' was the first thing he said as he walked into the TV lounge. So much for grand entrances, but the shocked squeak she made and her slack jawed stare almost made up for it. Pyro flicked his lighter. 'How's it been?'

'John! What the hell are you even doing here?' She jumped off the couch and ran up to him, and he gave her a hug out of habit. She was never too touchy, too annoying, so he figured he owed her that much.

He shrugged. 'Storm invited me when she called Bobby back here.'

'Bobby's here? Oh man I'm so glad. This place has been ridiculous lately. I made the team though!' Jubilee pointed excitedly at a new patch on the sleeve of her bright yellow coat and Pyro tried to smile at her. Jesus Christ, they really were strapped for artillery, weren't they?

'Cool. Where's everyone else?'

'Midterms are coming up, so everyone's studying I guess. This movie I really wanted to see is coming on soon so I figured I'd take a break. Rogue's still in the same room, by the way,' she added with a wink. Pyro rolled his eyes. 'Anyway, I'm surprised Storm let you come back, I figured she'd still be resting some of the blame of Jean's death on your shoulders or something.'

Pyro stiffened. 'What the hell did I have to do with that? We were trying to keep ourselves from being lined up and neutered, not kill other mutants. Jesus.' He figured he was a bad guy, but he didn't expect it so soon, and not from Jubilee at least.

'I guess this isn't the best welcome home talk I could have mustered, huh? But you did run off, John. You joined that bastard Magneto and now-'

Pyro's eyes narrowed dangerously. 'Jubes, I don't. I don't want to get into this right now. I just got back today, I'd rather not argue with you.' She looked angry, she wasn't stupid, just a little air headed, but she didn't know anything about it. Xavier's was a tight little bubble of isolation. He stared right back at her and she backed down.

'Well, if Storm let you back, I guess that's enough. Welcome home.'

---

It didn't feel like home, really. The mansion was old and fine and rich, deep with history, Pyro was sure. But the mansion always tugged at him, making him think of earlier times. Only the Professor and Dr. Grey knew had known how uncomfortable he felt.

He wondered sometimes why Bobby had never asked about his life before Xavier's. He'd heard all about Bobby's shitty home life, how his parents were nice and stupid and ignored him and his brother most of the time, how they didn't know where he was or who he was and they didn't care as long as he kept being great, blah blah blah. Pyro didn't give a shit, but he'd listen as well as he could. Meeting Bobby's parents in the flesh had been weird as hell, but they'd been pretty typical. It was weirder to him that Bobby could be so damn typical but then so not. He was a mutant, for one. And he was pretty gay, if Pyro was any authority on it. Or queer. Or something. Goddamn good at fucking, at any rate.

The stairs creaked in the mansion, and the dining room was huge, and there were old, expensive carpets on the floor. Pyro remembers the mansion of his youth being less dark, better lit, less mahogany.

He didn't think he'd last in the mansion for long.

---

'Hey,' he said as he slumped into the dining room. Pyro was realizing he was shit at entrances, really, as he watched Rogue sort of choke and drop her spoon and stare wide eyed at him. 'Uh.'

'Mah gawd, Johnny. I had no idea you were back!'

'Uh. Well I am. How've you been, Marie?' He managed some kind of demented looking smile and sat down across from her, next to Bobby and the corner.

'Well. Pretty terrible, I guess.' She laughed a little and Pyro raised an eyebrow. He wasn't back for five minutes and already this. It was interesting to be home for sure.

'I brought Bobby back for you, all in one piece.' He hit his friend in the shoulder and got a cold glare in return.

'Oh. Well, if he didn't tell you, we've broken up.'

'Yeah, he told me. But I figured you'd care a little if I'd shattered him with a hammer or something. Or is that the task you'd've assigned to get me back into your good graces, madam?' Pyro grabs at her hand, still holding a spoon, and plants a kiss on the back of her leather glove. She giggled. Perfect.

Bobby scowled some more and began stabbing at his food.

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**Author's Note: **This series has taken control of my life. Expect some weird plot developments soon. Please review if you've been following this; I'd love to hear from you even if it's just a couple of words!


	12. a proposition

**St John the Divine: A Proposition  
- Chibi Lurrel**  
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Life at the mansion was slow. Bobby was skittish about me touching him, so I took Rogue out on a couple of dates to piss him off. He froze my bed in retaliation, and our personal war escalated. I touched him a lot in meetings, at dinner, and he punched me in the eye in the Danger Room. I set his pillow on fire. He didn't reciprocate after a hurried blowjob.

I spent a lot of time by myself, when I wasn't being coerced into tutoring the kids. Bobby and Storm spent a lot of time talking and making secret plans or something, so I started reading more. I wasn't this big academic slacker like everyone thought; hell, I was a published journalist and author and shit. Of course I liked to read. So after lunch I was curled up with some nice magical realism and then Logan sauntered in.

'So, since you've been hangin' around for about a week or so, we figured it was time for you to show us what you got.'

I looked up from my book. 'I thought I was a guest, man. This doesn't even sound friendly.'

Logan laughed. 'Well, it won't be. Storm and I want to see you and Bobby fight.'

This sentence caused me to snap the book shut. 'What?'

'We want to see you fight. Bobby's been honing his skills and I'm sure Magneto didn't let you just sit around and read.'

'Hey, Magneto definitely encouraged my literacy. Anyway, seriously, what the fuck is going on? Is this why I was allowed to come back here? So Drake could get some extra, outside the Danger Room training?'

'Watch your language, bub. We just think it'd be a good idea; Bobby seems a little stir-crazy lately, and the kids could use a little more excitement in between classes.'

'You guys are the crazy ones, Wolverine.'

At dinner, though, it turned out he was being serious. Storm grinned at me as she passed me the mashed potatoes and asked if I'd considered fighting out in front of the Mansion.

'Is there something in the water here? I'd really rather not blow something up.'

She just shook her head. 'I think watching two experienced combatants would be good for the students.'

Dr. McCoy had returned to the mansion that week, and even he seemed interested in seeing us pit our powers against each other. 'After all, it might be a good indicator of whether you will develop a secondary mutation,' he said, adjusting his glasses.

I had started sitting at the adult's table, with the professors. With all the tutoring I had ended up doing, I figured it was only a matter of time before they tried to get me to teach English or something. It wouldn't be a bad gig; I'd have time to work on my bodice rippers and have some extra cash, plus the kids weren't so bad. If Bobby hadn't been ignoring me, it would have been perfect, really.

Too bad Bobby was the reason I spent so much time in the library. Every time I even made an off colour joke or was a little bit extra affectionate, I got a lecture on professionalism. Fuck that, really. It wasn't like I didn't have any other prospects. Well, it was a little like that. Colossus and Kitty were finally getting together, and some of the other kids were just that – kids. Some of the cuter ones were about my age, but thought of sleeping with someone without combat experience made my stomach turn. I didn't really know why.

Eventually it was Bobby who won me over, that jerk. Seriously, who says things like 'Well, if you're man enough to face me?' It was like we were in some sort of pissing contest that I felt completely obligated to win.

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**Author's Note: **Guess I'm back for a bit! Sup.


	13. the fight

**St John the Divine: The Fight  
- Chibi Lurrel**

---------------------------------------

The sun was shining outside the day of their fight. Dr McCoy had returned looking troubled, and he, Logan, and Storm had a staff conference in the Professor's old study. Pyro wasn't invited – he was still just a tutor, and a distrusted one at that. Pyro didn't like the staff being agitated while he was planning on fighting his best friend and big pain in the ass Bobby Drake. There had been something brewing under the surface for a while now, but he had no idea what.

Pyro felt nervous already– damn, did this event really need such a big fucking audience? Bobby looked uneasy, too, which made him feel a little better. They stood facing each other, a big balsa wood barrier in between them and the students. He figured maybe Wolverine built it. The old gang all stood clustered together, Rogue, Jubilee, Kitty and Piotr, and that new guy, Gambit, and they were all cheering, mostly for Bobby. Pyro didn't blame them.

Storm began the fight by introducing them to the student body. She flew down, hovering over the improvised battle field, or lawn, and addressed the kids.

'Alright, students, we've set this demonstration to show you how training can improve your control. These are two experienced combatants who have agreed to face off for the benefit of your education. You should all recognize Bobby Drake, alias Iceman, as a former student and now a full-time member of the X-Men. His opponent today is St. John Allerdyce, alias Pyro, who is also a former student of Xavier's Academy, and who is currently an independent tutor for several of you.' She smiled out at the crowd.

The two mutants started out predictably: Bobby made the first move, shooting a wave of ice right where Pyro's chest would have been if he hadn't side stepped. Pyro's wrists clicked and there were two spirals of flame headed straight for Bobby on either side and he was forced to throw up an ice wall. They began to trade attacks, gearing up for the expected conclusion. Pyro could feel himself getting more and more into the fight. The audience's shouts disappeared and were replaced with a startling clarity on his one goal: defeating Bobby, his sometimes lover and friend. He smiled and shot a straight line of fire at the same time Bobby threw his ice. The lines of attack hit with a metallic clang and the collision rocked Pyro's whole body, the cold inching its way to the pulse in his temples.

When John kicked his powers into high-gear, his whole body broke into goosebumps and his eyes watered up. The hair at the back of his neck prickled. It was like being hit with a sudden realization about life or listening to music rush into a grand crescendo, hearing a soaring high note. His body sang with it, burning hot. His bones burned white under his skin. Pyro blinked the tears out of his eyes as he leaned into the heat, felt the giddy flow of sheer power flow through his whole being.

Bobby was holding up well, considering John turned his wall of flame completely, blindingly blue. God, he felt like he could blow up the entire mansion, and his face hurt from grinning so widely. Bobby's face was carved into the same look of concentration he got while doing calculus. Suddenly, though, he looked through the tangle of powers in between them, caught John's eyes, and grinned. John watched as Bobby _changed_, shifting into his ice-form slowly and deliberately. He guessed it must be somewhat a shock to the system and throttled his flames up, but Bobby's attempts at building a total wall of ice doubled in intensity.

Pyro's head was suddenly throbbing, pulsing like he had a fever and he groaned, stepping backwards and losing his footing. It hurt his head and he felt his jaw tense as he gritted his teeth in response. His fire was dying and it pained him physically, so he launched himself out of the way as he cut off the fire.

'Getting a little chillier, Johnny?' Bobby asked smugly as he glanced around. Pyro had managed to roll out of his line of sight and he crept closer, but Bobby caught sight of him. Ice began curl around Pyro, but he just snorted. He figured he had left the school too early to get a real working knowledge of appropriate battle taunts and puns.

Pyro flicked his wrists and he had two fire snakes coiling around his feet. He sent them up the sides of Bobby's attempted ice prison, growing into long, thin curtains of fire. The wall melted quickly and then the two mutants stood facing each other again, Bobby encased in ice and Pyro poised for battle. All around them sat ruined patches of earth, blackened and warped like volcanic glass.

'Getting tired?'

Pyro grinned. 'I guess I'm supposed to say that I'm just getting fired up.'

Bobby went for the offence and John sidestepped it. Mystique had bested him in hundreds of no-powers fighting drills and Bobby looked like an amateur in comparison. Pyro could read his moves and body like a book, and they began to really fight.

Every hit that connected with Pyro hurt like getting hit with rocks hurt, and pretty soon he was bruised and his skin ached. His ears were filled with the dull roar of adrenaline. Bobby tried freezing his feet to the ground and Pyro rolled back, throwing small balls of fire to keep Bobby distracted. Once he relegated Bobby to simple defensive moves, he came in with an elbow to the shoulder. Bobby shouted something and his eyes grew brighter and his punches were colder, Pyro was getting chilly but his fingers were itching and then Bobby landed a particular savage blow to his stomach. He responded with a twitch of his wrist and an uppercut to the sternum with a hand covered in fire, then a blow to the face.

Bobby hit the ground screaming, grabbing his face and rolling to his side to curl into a ball. Pyro extinguished his own hands and stared down dumbly.

'I. Uh. Shit.'

Dr. McCoy leapt over the barriers and picked up Bobby like a doll in his huge blue arms as Wolverine yelled at all the students that the fight was over, and Pyro had won, but it was time to get the hell back to their rooms. Bobby was still clutching his face and screaming. Pyro ran after them as the entirety of the teaching staff bolted for the medical wing.

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**Author's Note: **So I discovered the other day that I had more of this story saved on my computer. Some of it needs a rewrite, but you know. I figured I'd upload it. Thanks for stickin' with me, dudes and dudettes, and please leave me a review if you like it! xoxo


	14. aftermath

**St John the Divine: Aftermath  
- Chibi Lurrel**

---------------------------------------

I couldn't stop staring at Bobby's half melted face. Apparently he'd hit a threshold of mutation we didn't know about, and instead of covering himself in ice, he'd managed to turn himself into ice. That Bobby Drake, always one step ahead.

His unintelligible screaming had finally died down, and Dr. McCoy was hulking over him with a pitcher of water in his hand. They'd managed to un-ice his arms and legs, and we working on refreezing his chest before they tackled his face.

I really hoped I hadn't managed to ruin the only good thing I'd ever had to look at in my life.

As I debated between skulking out and staying to apologize, Wolverine took the time to out-skulk me and popped up out of nowhere.

'So what the fuck did you do there, bub?'

I tried not to squeak. 'I uh. This,' I replied, wincing as I lit my still tender hands on fire.

He looked at them appraisingly. 'Huh. So I guess you have been training.'

Grimacing a little, I put them out and rubbed them together gingerly.

'Hurts?'

I nodded. 'Well, it's not like this skin was made to be set on fire. You should've seen me after my first try.' I glanced down at his hands, where the skin was rough but free of both scars and convenient holes for claws to pop out of. 'I guess you probably understand.'

He snorted. 'Probably better than anyone.' In the background, Dr. McCoy poured water down Bobby's icy chest. Nice.

'I swear though, if I'd known he actually turned into fucking ice I probably wouldn't have punched him in the face like that.'

Logan actually laughed. I was a little distracted by Bobby moaning and the sound of ice cracking to really be proud of myself.

'Don't blame yourself, kid, this is our fault. He should be fine though. There, look, Hank got him all fixed up.'

And of course he was right. There Bobby was, sitting on a table with a huge fucking bruise on his face, but not really the worse for wear. I shuffled over, Logan flanking me.

'Uh, so. Sorry, man,' I said. God, I was so fucking lame.

Bobby had his hand cradling his jaw. 'It's cool. I have no idea what the fuck I just did though. I don't really know how useful actually _turning myself into ice_ will be, but I guess it's cool.'

'A real hit at parties. Just snap off some fingers and the drinks are delicious.'

He laughed and then winced. 'Jesus, you don't pull your punches.'

I managed to grin back – thank god he wasn't mad, oh man he doesn't hate me -- and pulled up my shirt to show him my black and blue ribcage. 'You're one to talk.'

'Shit man. This was probably a bad idea all around.' He lightly pressed a hand up against my ribs and they felt like the world's most sexually arousing ice pack, and that's when I realized we were alone in the medical wing.

'Dude, where did everyone go?'

Bobby grinned. 'Whatever.' He shot some ice at the lock on the door, a big honking block of it.

'I guess you're feelin' better, huh? Quick recovery?'

His hands were cold resting on the waistband of my pants, and he pulled me up onto the table. The giant bruise ruled kissing proper out so I went for the collar bones, since he was already shirtless. I added a couple of love bites to his already bruised chest.

Bobby moaned, and that was pretty hot, and I managed to get my shirt off sometime in between licking Bobby's neck and biting on his ear. His perpetually chilly hands tweaked at my nipples and ran down my spine to my ass and pulled me closer to him as we awkwardly sat on the medical table. Then they went for my pants.

'Bobby, you gotta warm up your hands before they go anywhere near my dick,' I panted, my nerves already jumbled from blowing shit up less than an hour before hand. He grinned deviously up at me and said, 'Okay, so warm them up.'

He snaked a hand behind my head and pulled my face closer to his, and even with a bruise the size of my hand on his face he was still gorgeous. His other hand came up and he brushed his fingers across my bottom lip. I got the hint and sucked his fingers into my mouth, my tongue swirling around them like it was about to do to his dick (okay, maybe a little more biting with the fingers). He moaned and I palmed his erection through his ridiculous leather pants, and then licked his palm, releasing his hand from my mouth so it could make its way into my pants.

I was so hyped up at this point that the hand job didn't take too long, and Bobby licked his fingers clean. What a tease. I scrambled off the table and he swung his legs over it, unzipping his pants (totally commando) as I got to my knees. It was a good height.

'If you turn to ice while this is happening it's probably going to suck. For you. A lot.' He laughed and braced himself on the table.

'Yeah well, thanks for the warning. I'll take my chances.' His cock was never as cold as the rest of him and he groaned as I took him into my mouth. He fisted a hand into my hair and he shot pretty quickly after I deep throated him. I swallowed and grinned up at him, and he grinned back and sighed. As I stood up though, he got a more troubled expression.

'Look, I don't know if this is a great idea.'

'Blowjobs are always a good idea, Drake.'

'No, seriously, we shouldn't be fucking up the team dynamic.'

I looked over at him as I stretched out my legs. 'I'm not even part of your little wonderteam, so don't get your hopes up. Can we talk about this after a shower?'

Bobby got off the table and shrugged. 'Fine.'

'Look, I'll see you at dinner. I gotta find my shirt.'

'Okay. Can you melt the door lock?' I did it without looking, but his footfalls assured me I didn't scorch him or anything. I eventually found my shirt under the table and pulled it on. I felt pretty gross, sweating and grimy and maybe a little used, and I yawned as I walked out into the hall of the medical wing. And took a wrong turn right into another room.

Dr. McCoy was there, checking some machines that were hooked up to a body lying still on a bed. I had managed not to run into anything and crouched back, making myself small and unnoticeable. As he replaced an IV bag, he said, 'We'll get you back up to speed in no time at all, Professor.'

It was like my heart stopped. I jerked away from the doorframe, and forced myself to walk, not sprint, back to my room.

Professor Xavier was alive. I didn't know in what shape he was in, but if he was conscious, that meant he knew. He already knew everything.

I had to make a phone call.

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**Author's Note: **Well everyone loves blowjobbery, right? Review and tell me if that's true or whatevz.

PS – Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing and reading and stuff. Y'all keep me updating, even though I suck at being timely in any way shape or form.


	15. invitation

**St John the Divine: Invitation  
- Chibi Lurrel**

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Dinner is tense. Pyro supposes he should have expected that, but he didn't expect the looks of fear and respect from the younger kids, even some of the older new kids. Gambit, a guy he only sees in passing, even gives him a respectful little nod. He sits down at the adult's table, as usual, and it still makes him feel a little weird. He can't remember who used to sit in his seat.

'That was excellent work today, St. John,' says Storm, and she doesn't look as like she's bullshitting her enthusiasm like she normally does when talking to him.

'Thanks. I uh, think I probably overdid it though.'

'Well, we were able to put Mr. Drake back as good as new,' Dr. McCoy says, smiling. He was definitely Pyro's new favourite staff member, easy going and hilarious, but dangerously smart.

Bobby and Rogue walk into dinner late, and sit far away from Pyro. He doesn't care, really, it's just weird.

'Your face feeling any better?'

Bobby looks up. 'Oh, yeah. I've been, uh. Icing it,' he says with an apologetic wince.

'Well, you two certainly put on a wonderful display for the students today, so thank you both very much for that,' Storm says, and Bobby blushes a little. What a tool.

'I still don't get what was so great about watching two kids beat the hell outta each other, Storm.'

'We haven't been emphasizing fighting as much with the new kids here; Storm and Dr. McCoy figures we should work with gettin' 'em ready for both college and the real world,' Logan says gruffly.

'It's a lot easier for mutants to get into college if they have proof that they've got their powers under control, and we can give them that kind of paper work,' Bobby adds.

John nods. 'I guess that makes sense.'

'But when we do have them train for combat situations, many of the students are hesitant to fight each other.'

'You know, the usual 'If I punch her, she'll never go out with me' worries,' Rogue drawls, and Pyro laughs.

'So having two friends engage in a very real training activity was probably beneficial, as long as you two don't suddenly hate each other?'

'Naw, no hard feelings here, huh Drake?' Pyro leers across the table and Bobby blushes again.

'Nope. Though next time, I'm going to kick your ass.'

'The last reason,' Storm says, interrupting their testosterone fest, 'is that I felt it would be educational for the students to see the handywork of a fully trained member of the Brotherhood.'

Pyro tenses immediately. 'I guess it was only a matter of time, then, huh?'

'As nice as it has been to ignore the real reason you have not been here, you know it can't go on forever. I, and the rest of the team, would like to cordially invite you to become a working member of the X-Men.'

'Well.' St. John isn't really sure what to say. 'I'll think about it.'

'You've got a week,' Storm says with such authority that Pyro remembers why it was her who was second, and now first, in command.

'Sure thing, ma'am.'

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**Author's Note: **It's weird how linear this story has gotten and I'm not sure I like it but hey! Plot and stuff. Sorry this updates so sporadically but school is killing me, unsurprisingly.


	16. friends

**St John the Divine: Friends  
- Chibi Lurrel**

* * *

When he first moved to the mansion, Pyro could barely remember what it was like to have friends, so when there was someone else lurking on the back porch the first time he snuck out of bed to smoke, he was wary. He stood lurking in the kitchen until he realized that the girl had a) noticed him and b) was waving him out. He creaked open the door and joined her, and was disarmed by her open smile. He squinted and her smile slid away.

"Hey. You're not gonna snitch on me are you?"

"No."

She smiled again and he pulled out a cigarette.

"You need a light?"

He snorted and clicked his lighter and moved the flame to the cig in his mouth, inhaling.

"Oooh, I thought you were the fire kid. John?"

"It's St. John."

"Sin-John?"

"Just. Just call me Pyro. Do you want a cig?"

"I'm Jubilee, and that'd be great."

He smiled a little and lit hers with a tiny little fire sun and she giggled, and didn't seem at all concerned with getting caught. She made fun of him a little for smoking menthols, and they both ignored each other's patched up clothes and he knew inherently he'd found some sort of kindred soul in the giant house. His first friend in what felt like a thousand years.

Being in the mansion was strange and he spent his first months there slumped in his ratty clothes, jumping at loud noises, and glaring. He had arrived at the beginning of the summer so it was mostly just the kids without families, or the kids without families who wanted them. He stuck close with Jubilee, who seemed to know her way around and who was tight with the professors.

Professor Xavier spent a lot of time picking through his brain that summer and it always made him trembly and angry, but he simply assumed that was the price to pay for room, board, and an absence of predators.

Being with Bobby at the mansion was nothing like being in the mansion in what Pyro had deemed the before-time, and it was nothing like their cosy life before Storm's phone call. No one particularly gave a shit what he did, for one, and although Jubilee was still her usual friendly self, Pyro didn't know how to make an ally any more. He was too used to being Pyro, alone, and then Pyro, with Bobby.

Except at the mansion it felt like he was back to Pyro, alone. Bobby was cordial and friendly in public, of course, but nothing more than that. Pyro could understand the excuses at first, like what a bitch slap suddenly being into dudes would be to Rogue, but after a while it just made him pissed. Coming into Pyro's room at three am for some sex was fine, but Pyro casually draping his arm over Bobby's shoulders earned him some kind of crazy freak out lecture.

'Look, Drake, I'm sick of you yanking my chain all around this goddamn house, okay?' Pyro had said one night as they lay on his bed. 'Just come out or leave me out of your spastic sexuality guilt trip.'

Bobby had grabbed his hand and looked sad. 'John, it's just. I don't know, different now. What if they think I was collaborating with you while you were working for Magneto or something? Or like, what if they think you're a spy and I'm helping you now?'

Pyro had counted his lucky stars that Kid Omega was such an erratic telepath and just pulled away, turning over on the bed. 'Bobby, I get it, you're slumming and you don't want them to know it's me you're dating. Whatever.'

'It's not that.'

'It is that.'

Bobby being a dick was just one more reason on a list of reasons why he should get the hell out of the mansion within the week, but he couldn't commit himself. For one thing, Magneto was also kind of a jerk, and Pyro knew when he was being used. But the X-Team wasn't going to be much better. Probably. Maybe.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Uh so I'm in grad school now? But I have all these chapters written? And I just never posted chapter 16 because it was awkward and I hated it. Then someone reviewed this story and I felt bad about never letting y'all read the rest of it, even if I wasn't so into it. So uhhhh…this is as edited as 16 is going to be. Sorry. ALSO I EVEN HAVE SOME ACTION SCENES! I will even put in some hot lovin' scenes if you want. Enjoy the simultaneous two chapter update? Whooo?


	17. out

**St John the Divine: Out  
- Chibi Lurrel**

* * *

'Bobby. Bobby. Bobster. Popsicle. Iceman. Icy. Bobtastic. Robert Drake. Drake. Drakey-poo.'

'Jesus Christ, will you fucking SHUT UP?' The door slammed open. Victory was Pyro's.

'I think you should let me take you out to dinner.' Pyro leaned into Bobby's room, hand keeping the door propped open.

'It's not like I didn't get called back to do something here, you know? I have work to do and I can't get it done if you keep bothering me about every little damned thing and –'

'Hey.' Pyro said it softly, and Bobby looked down. The door handle was encased in a huge block of ice that had latticed its way up the wood.

'Shit.'

'Can I come in?'

Bobby was shaking ice off his hand. 'Fine.' The door clicked loudly behind him as he sat down on Bobby's bed. There were piles and piles of papers and books littering the desk in the corner, and then the floor around the desk.

'Look, Bobby. I just need to talk. This is bullshit, what we're doing, and if you don't. I'll go.'

Bobby sat heavily down on his desk chair. 'If I don't what?' His eyes were hard, little ice chips that bored right into John. God, Pyro hated metaphors.

'If you don't want me to stay. If you want me to go, I'll go.' He had to say it through gritted teeth.

Bobby sighed. 'I do want you to stay. I just. This isn't California, John. This isn't some tiny little apartment where no one knows us.'

'The professors don't give a shit.'

'What?'

'You think letting us fuck in the Medical Wing was an accident? Hank told me they were just 'giving us space.' Pretty much Storm thinks we bang every night. I know you've been caught up in a lot of research for Lord knows what, but I mean. Why'd you bring me here?'

'I thought you'd like it here. I thought maybe I could change your mind. Like I couldn't back at the Lake.'

That was a weird thought. 'You know I've already. I've already changed my mind about a lot of things, Drake.'

'Yeah well. I guess I just wanted to be that catalyst or something. I can't even believe Storm knows we have sex.'

'It's kinda hot.'

'Jesus.'

'Whatever, man, you know it is.'

'Anyway, John, if you think you need to go, then go. It's not up to me.'

'I'm making it up to you,' and that sentence was so loaded neither of them knew where to go with it.

'Well.'

'If I stay we actually get to be dating though.'

'I didn't even say yes.'

'If you don't we won't be dating at all.'

---

'You two are cute together,' Jubes said to him one night on the porch. She was, it turned out, really bad at quitting smoking. Wolverine grunted and she laughed.

'I meant Pyro and Iceman, not Wolvie and Pyro.'

'Hmph.'

Pyro just sucked on his cigarette. A lot had changed at the mansion. A lot hadn't.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Aaaah ff.n.


	18. sentinel

**18: Sentinels**

* * *

I started teaching English at the mansion. Big whoop. I was a "published author," so at least I had some credentials, though it's not as though the kids had ever read any of my bullshit bodice rippers or album reviews, thank god.

I had been at the mansion for about two months. Bobby and I had fought in front of the whole school after three weeks of living at the mansion. My last phone call from Magneto had come at the beginning of the second month.

I guess a lot of people would have been racked with guilt. After all, I was getting a free ride at Xavier's Academy for Gifted Youngsters, didn't have to do anything, had sex with Bobby Drake, and here I was, risking it all for the ultimate in bad guys.

But really, fuck being compassionate about humans. Magneto wasn't right, per say, but he wasn't wrong either. I really didn't need my ass blown up by the X-Men, so I called him up to quit. That was it. It's not like teaching Claire how to not blow up chairs every time she sneezed was real pertinent information to the mutant power cause anyway.

So there was my life. I smoked a lot, read a lot, wrote some, fucked, and graded essays written by a bunch of scared kids with powers that made them even more scared or more angry. Jubilee and Bobby I got to nurse back to health when they came home from fighting or having X-shenanigans or what have you. Rogue and I went back to being friends; she got over the us being gay thing pretty fast, Bobby's assumptions be damned.

Storm never once mentioned me going the field team and I never asked. I never even got the leathers.

I figured that even I couldn't fuck up my life too hard in less than six months, but during the third, something else happened.

Sentinels happened.

Sure, we'd all seen them in the Danger Room, whispered blueprints, some C-SPAN debate. But shit.

The things were fucking terrifying.

The best way to describe a Sentinel is to take every panicky feeling I've ever had while standing in a back alley, and then giving those feelings a fiftyfoot high body with laser eyes. The things look like they can destroy mountains, and there they are, waiting to kill you as you walk home from the grocery store.

I've never been good about nightmares.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Finals week is the perfect time to update ff.n, right?


	19. nightmares & visions

**18: **nightmares & visions

The first time Bobby came home with an arm lasered off, I thought I was going to throw up. Hank managed to talk him through reattaching whatever ice was left, organic ice doesn't melt like normal ice-tray cubes, thank God. I got called down to watch him slowly work himself back to flesh and blood, dutifully being the boyfriend, trying not to freak out. I managed, his arm was fine, just some deep cuts that needed stitches but it didn't fall off.

'Dude, what the fuck?' I asked him and he just shook his head, sitting up and wincing as Dr. McCoy sewed him up.

'We were out doing a routine recon mission – there's been some rumours of Magneto, or at least Brotherhood members, stirring up trouble a few towns over, and then this huge robot shows up out of no where. It can sense mutants, John.'

'Jesus.'

Hank finished up and then gave Bobby the cursory instructions, don't be too hard on it, don't turn to ice unless you absolutely have to, and take care of the other cuts and sprained ankle and twisted elbow, and I helped him back to my room, because it's closer to the stairs and it's easier than lugging the guy back to his room.

He grunted as I lay him down on my bed. 'I never figured you'd keep the bed made here. Sure as hell couldn't manage it back in Cali.'

I laughed a little and got him a towel to freeze for his ankle.

'So, you think it was a trap?' I needed to be cool, to be nonchalant, but it just wasn't happening.

'Maybe.' Bobby awkwardly tried to pull himself out of his uniform, and I ended up doing it for him, stripping off the leathers til it was just skin and his X-underwear. I pulled the blankets over him and he just sighed. 'I don't think Magneto set it up though.'

'Oh. Uh.'

'I think you should call him,' he said.

'Uh. Fuck.'

'Seriously. I've seen the phone, okay? I'm not completely brain dead here.'

'If I talk to Storm about this am I going to die?'

Bobby smiled. 'Probably. But you're here now, you chose us now. You could change your mind maybe, but I doubt this'd be how you'd do it.'

It hadn't really been thinking at the Drake's family home. Not well thought out, well planned thinking. It was simply a reaction. Who were they, those cops, those parents, his parents, who were they? What right did they have to ask him to lie down on the ground, like a dog? Like something that deserved to be shot, put down.

Pyro was not often allowed to make fire. Well, he couldn't _make _fire then, maybe he would never be able to, Cyclops said. Maybe he simply had control, said Professor Xavier, who then assigned more meditation, more focus, more tiny details. But he wasn't often allowed to rule fire, to expand it, to feel it.

Fuck that.

A bullet in Wolverine's metal skull was enough for him. Fuck this cop, with his gun and his shaking hands. Fuck Bobby's brother, fuck his mom, and his dad, and fuck Bobby for having a family that's first reaction was to let him know, they still loved him.

Fuck those police cars, and oh god fuck Rogue because suddenly, his thoughts were being sucked out. For one split second before she let go he felt…chilled.

St. John Allerdyce had never been in love, but Pyro had mistaken a lot of things for love in his time. The feeling he had of blowing up a car, the brightness that settled in his chest as flames grew at his command, Pyro thought, must be love. Must be better than love. Was as good as sex, which was something Pyro had never, ever confused with love.

Until Magneto.

Maybe Pyro didn't think it was love, exactly, not that time in the woods. But Magneto made his heart thrum with power, his chest feel light. Made him feel powerful. Let him be powerful.

Let him be more powerful than them, the world, the humans around him.

"They want to kill us to be safe, so we must fight," Magneto had said. Had said. Magneto took lives, but had never made Pyro take one. Never _forced _him to at least.

"You're right, this isn't how I'd do it."

Bobby grinned but I didn't smile back. Bobby would never kill a human to save a mutant, I knew. To him, they were innocents, not competition, not out for blood. It was hard for me to come to grips with the fact that maybe, I would have spent my whole life running, thrumming with power and trying so hard to build what Magneto wanted. Or I could take what I had: Bobby, this mansion. Where the mutants already lived, were protected.

I took a deep breath and let go.

**Author's notes: **This chapter is more of a merge between some of my earlier style and the more plot-y movements. The next couple chapters are more plotty, so. Let me know if you have a preference for more introspective past St. John moments. (Also, hey all you lovely people who are watching this story! Introduce yourselves!)


	20. confession is good for the soul

**20: confession is god for the soul**

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Pyro knows that he is about to die.

He had come close many times in his short life, but he realizes nothing had put the fear of God in him like being pinned against the wall with Wolverine's claws at his throat, his other hand wrapped around his arm and holding there.

Storm doesn't look apologetic.

'I haven't talked to him in over a month and a half, but. I can call him now if you need me to.'

'What the fuck were you tellin' him about us?' Wolverine growls and Pyro resists the urge to swallow melodramatically.

'I didn't have anything to tell him! It's not like you guys are stocking up on anti-Brotherhood bombs or anything.' Pyro was a pretty good liar but Storm just stares at him, the whole room crackling with lightning.

'But what does he know?' she asks darkly.

Pyro doesn't know why he doesn't lie; neither of the people who are about to kill him are telepaths, they can't tell.

'He knows. He knows the Professor's alive.'

Wolverine's whole body is so close and the hand gripping his shoulder lets go and in the same second, his shoulder is filled with metal. Wolverine knows exactly how to puncture someone without making them bleed to death, without ruining their nerves, without hitting something vital, and St. John doesn't scream, he barely flinches; he sucks in air through his teeth.

'Logan!' Storm shouts and she sounds really angry, legitimately pissed off and Pyro thanks every small god that she didn't just smite him on the spot. He bites down on his cheek and tries not to squirm. Adamantium feels different than just a knife, it was a burning metal, and he feels the blood pooling on his shoulder.

'Sorry. Slipped.' Wolverine bares his teeth.

'These things…he's not going to be selling information to anyone involved with Sentinels.' Pyro hisses every 'ess' sound out and he squeezes his eyes tight. 'He probably…would have called me about it anyway. I don't think…he knows too much about them.'

'_Logan__._' Pyro hears the claws recede away from both his vulnerable neck and his aching, bleeding shoulder. He sinks to the floor immediately.

'I'm impressed you don't squeal when stuck.'

Pyro breathes in and out heavily. It had taken everything he had to not scream, to not set Wolverine on fire. The last thing he needs is Storm to think he was hostile.

'Look, I just. I. He'd be a good ally, in this fight. Machines. He's real good with those.'

'Angel had mentioned this earlier, Logan. Whoever is funding this is no friend of Magneto's.'

'Can I just give you the damn phone and go to the medical wing?'

Storm looks at him and he realizes this of course, would not even be close to penance enough. He bares his teeth in a hostile grimace anyway.

'You will call him and find out what he knows. Tell him that the X-Men and Magneto have a common enemy in the Sentinels. For the moment, we shall not interfere.'

It is a surprising statement to Pyro, to say the least, but Storm wasn't Xavier, wasn't Scott, wasn't Jean. Ororo Munroe had her own sense of ethics and her decision made sense, so Pyro slumps out and goes to the Medical Bay and fixes up his wounds the best he could with just his right hand. Wolverine had managed to not rip all the way through his shoulder, thank goodness, so he just had three deep puncture wounds. No biggie. He'd picked up a lot of first aid knowledge, but Hank was padding around the professor's room, so Pyro called out.

He comes in the room and looks wryly at Pyro as he pulled out the stuff needed to clean out the wounds.

'So I take it you and Wolverine had an altercation.'

'You shouldn't be hiding the Professor like that,' is the only thing Pyro could think to blurt out.

Hank just wraps his arm up in gauze. 'Well, he'll be making his debut soon. Magneto should be pleased to hear that, I'm sure.'

'Goddammit. Were you guys just waiting for me to crack about this or what?'

'I wasn't expecting it, but considering your previous behaviour, it was not…surprising.'

'I guess I'm just going to be John Allerdyce, the fuckup, forever now. Thanks for the help.' Pyro walked to his room, where Bobby was napping lightly on his bed.

Bobby blinked at Pyro, waking up when the door clicked closed. Pyro wasn't wearing a shirt and had an already bloody bandage on his left shoulder, the rest of his body unharmed and taut.

'Guessing that Logan flipped out.'

'Ding ding ding.'

'But you don't look electrocuted, so that's a plus.'

'Yeah well, apparently I'm the messenger now.'

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**Author's Note: **Hello? Is anyone still out there?


	21. strange bedfellows

**21: strange bedfellows  
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The next week, Bobby hasn't moved out yet. Pyro is busy with the kids he teaches, too preoccupied with their tiny lives to really bitch about it. His shoulder is healing quickly although everyone seems to hate him again, he is used to it. Angel spent the next day shoving detailed blueprints of a Sentinel prototype in his face and asking him what the structural weaknesses might be. John only knows things about cars, a lot about hotwiring, taking apart, lock picking, chopping up the engine, and the information transfers surprisingly easily. Kitty came over to join them and they ended up with some good tips for future attacks.

Pyro is often stuck by how surprisingly easy living in the mansion is. The older students, the ones who know him, don't hassle him. Jubilee has apparently forgiven him for all transgressions, because she yelled at Wolverine on his behalf. How he got lucky enough to earn her undying loyalty he'll never know. The students he teaches don't know who the fuck he used to be.

Storm interrupts him one day as he's going over an English essay with Cessily. She doesn't apologize to either of them, which proves she means business. A Sentinel was dismantled in mid air last night, and there were a few civilian casualties.

'You will have to resume your session later,' she says, and Cessily leaves fast.

'So what's up?'

'I want you to join the team.'

If Pyro had bet money on what she was going to say to him, he would have been a very poor man. Instead, his mouth hangs open for just a second before he gets control of himself.

'I get to wear leather, then, right? Because if so I am so in.'

Storm just rolls her eyes.

'Okay. What brought this on?'

'I have decided to take Rogue off the active members list; she is not a good combatant for the battles we have been undergoing. Adding you will give us more muscle, which is what we need to combat Sentinels.'

'We're going on the offensive, then?'

'Yes. The new active team will consist of myself, Logan, Bobby, Kitty, Piotr, Jubilee, and yourself.'

'Uh-huh.'

'If we find out you are contemplating leaving us for Magneto's forces, you will be dealt with.'

'So I can't even turn in a two-week's notice? What sorta police state you running here, Ms. Munroe?'

'You were already given a choice and you chose incorrectly. I cannot allow you to be that kind of liability again.'

Storm was fucking scary, Pyro knew, but he didn't know just how scary she could be. 'I want a flame thrower,' he said anyway.

'Fine. You will get whatever you need to help keep us from being exterminated.'

**Author's Note: **Sorry I'm stupid-terrible at updating.


	22. déjà vu all over again

**22: déjà vu all over again**

Pyro knows he is about to die. He feels it in his blood and regrets ever eating his broccoli, taking multivitamins, finishing his steak dinner the night before. His blood started humming even before the door to the mansion blew off and only got hotter when he felt himself dragged by the wrists, his belt buckle, the rivets in his jeans, and every other metallic piece of clothing he was wearing.

When Pyro is finished flying through the hallways of the mansion, shattering his bedroom door and slamming into the handrail for the stairs, he is outside the mansion, about seven feet in the air and upside down. Magneto is standing below him, flanked by someone Pyro doesn't recognize but figures is Mystique. Magneto smiles.

'How've you been, boy?' he asks and Pyro struggles to scream and realizes his jaw is trapped shut by his own fillings. Magneto turns his attention to the flow of mutants that have followed Pyro's crash course out of the building. Bobby is first out the door but Storm steps in front of him, her eyes blinding white and lightning crackling in her hair.

Bobby holds Pyro's attention and he tries to signal something to him but all he can manage is spasmodically twitching and blinking furiously. He's never been happier that he has no piercings.

'What is the meaning of this intrusion?' Strom asks and her voice is strong and Pyro's spine would shiver, if he could move. Magneto just smiles again.

'I thought it would be a good time to visit an old friend of mine, but if he isn't available I'll simply take my property and leave.'

'You will do no such thing. Pyro belongs to no man, and he has joined the X-Men of his own free will. If we have to fight you to retrieve him from your grasp we shall –'

Magneto cuts her off. 'That won't be necessary if I am allowed to speak with Charles.'

The team is out in full force with Rogue, Wolverine, and Colossus standing guard, and Pyro sees Jubilee through the wide open and damaged doorway corralling the students back to their rooms. Or he thinks he sees her – his vision is blackening around the edges as all the blood in his body pools in his brain. He wonders why Magneto can't control that too, and tries moving again. It doesn't work, and Mystique shoots him a sharp, reptilian look of reproach.

Beast looks up angrily. 'You could have phoned, you know. Release Allerdyce and you'll get your conversation.'

Pyro sighs inwardly and tries to brace himself as Magneto laughs and releases him. He plummets to the ground and manages to twist his suddenly mobile body to land on its side, not on his head. He rolls on impact, spending little time cheering himself for not breaking his neck and restraining his gait to a swift walk, not run, to the bulk of the X-Men. He settles in next to Rogue and ignores Wolverine's soft growl.

'Well, that was easier than I expected it would be.' Magneto strides confidently toward the open door and Storm pulls herself to her full height and flanks him closely, Beast and Wolverine hustling ahead.

Wolverine snarls at Mystique. 'Only Magneto gets to go in, you better stay out here.' Mystique fixes him with a hard stare but Eric waves her off dismissively and she backs down.

'Colossus, guard her,' calls out Storm as they walk toward the hidden elevator that leads straight to the lab and Piotr tries to look menacing.

Pyro doesn't know what to do and Bobby pulls him inside, straight into the front office and Rogue follows. Pyro is panting and he knows his eyes must look crazy and Bobby just grabs him and pulls him tight to his chest.

'Oh god, oh fuck, I'm so sorry,' is what Pyro manages to blurt out and Rogue snorts.

'Don't be fuckin' sorry, hun, it's not like you called him up and told him to come here.'

Bobby nor Pyro attempt to dissuade her of that notion and Bobby continues to hold Pyro tightly and Pyro just waits for his heart to stop beating. As his breathing slows he realizes his blood is still hot, too hot and he untangles himself from his lover to sit in a chair.

'What's wrong?' Bobby whispers anxiously and Pyro is still sucking in air.

'I'm really hot,' he rasps out and Bobby puts his hand on his forehead and jumps back.

'Shit, John, you're burning up!' Bobby makes a small slab of ice in his hand and it melts a few seconds after touching his forehead. Rogue gasps and then Pyro can't hear their conversation anymore.


End file.
